


hunger in my heart

by thisdorkyficthing



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everything Is Different Except For Yuuri's and Viktor's Thirst For Each Other, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Memory Loss, That Will Never Change, Werewolf!Yuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9836399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisdorkyficthing/pseuds/thisdorkyficthing
Summary: So, he had sex for the first time ever, with what has to be the most beautiful man Yuuri’s ever seen.... and he doesn’t remember any of it.Seems right on par for Yuuri’s life, really.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I'm Terrible and adding another WIP to my plate. But... like .... I gotta. 
> 
> #NoRaegrets

This bed feels really, really soft.

Yuuri rubs his cheek against the pillow, sparse stubble scratching at the fabric. He shifts his body a little and feels aches and pains in odd places, muscles he’s never really thought about are complaining. Deep inside his thighs, his abs, arms. A little bit everywhere, really. The skin on his back feels strangely raw too.

Then, the weight on his waist finally registers, and the sleepy fog on his mind lifts and he remembers what day it is, and how the last thing he remembers is it being the evening before and feeling anxious and too big for his skin and the need to move.

He remembers making sure Phichit’s hamsters were good on water and food, leaving him a note telling him not to worry, and then walking out the door. It was just past dusk, then.

The arm around him gets heavier as a body pulls itself to Yuuri’s back, and there’s a soft, low moan and an even softer pair of lips on the back of his neck. Heat floods to the surface of Yuuri’s skin, and everything else becomes startlingly clear.

He’s naked.

The other man (definitely a man - _oh man_ ) behind him is naked too.

_Oh god..._

“Good morning,” he purrs into Yuuri’s ear, his voice scratchy and deep and shooting straight to Yuuri’s groin.

Yuuri fights his shock and turns over, gaping at the vision of Sex Personified laying beside him.

Seriously, he’s gorgeous; Peachy-pale skin and vibrant blue eyes, one of which is artfully hidden behind a shock of messy platinum fringe. There are bite marks and bruises marring the sides of his elegant neck and broad shoulders, and Yuuri has the strong suspicion that those are his fault. His cock gives a hard twitch as some thing deep in his core shudders with pleasure. Mr. Sex gives Yuuri a ridiculously indulgent smile – eyebrow raised, teeth digging into his pink bottom lip – that has Yuuri’s heart fluttering.

“After last night I wouldn’t think you’d be up for much of anything this morning,” the other man says with a breathy laugh.

_So_ , he had sex for the first time ever, with what has to be the most beautiful man Yuuri’s ever seen.... and he doesn’t remember _any_ of it.

Seems right on par for Yuuri’s life, really.

Yuuri just blinks, and if Mr Sex notices his shock, he’s decided to ignore it, leaning up instead to kiss Yuuri in to a puddle. Yuuri does his best to keep up, that thing in his core shuddering again as he licks in to the other man’s mouth. He sighs in to Yuuri’s mouth, a hand dragging up Yuuri’s stomach to rest on his chest, right over his rapidly beating heart.

They both jolt when there’s a scratching at the door, directly followed by the woeful whines of a dog whose breakfast is overdue.

“Sorry, I’ll be just moment.” Sex Himself pecks Yuuri’s lips once more before pulling away with an apologetic smile, and Yuuri is granted the awe-inspiring sight of him climbing out of bed.

There are _so many_ hickeys. And Yuuri thinks he sees shadowy little marks in strategic places that look suspiciously like fingertip shaped bruises.

As much as it pains Yuuri to see him pull on a pair of sweatpants and walk out the room, it’s also a relief, because Yuuri’s head is spinning and it feels like he’s not getting quite enough air.

He takes a few deep breaths first, swinging himself around so his feet are on the cool, hardwood floor. He tugs the sheets around his hips, feeling so very aware of his nakedness and the strangeness of where he is.

He finally has a good look around. Everything is a bit blurry without his glasses, but there’s nothing he really needs them for at the moment.

The blinds are open just enough to let the sunlight in and give Yuuri a glimpse to the city outside. Clean white walls, with touches of silver and gray here and there, furniture made of some sort of light wood. It’s all very expensive looking, despite the simplicity.

Their clothes are sprinkled in small piles around the room, and Yuuri decides to get up – clutching the sheet around his hips – and goes in search for his phone.

He finds it in the pocket of his jeans, miraculously undamaged. He turns it on to find a couple messages from Phichit asking if he’s okay.

He quickly replies, telling him _yes, I'm fine, I’ll be back in a bit_.

He looks up at the door when he hears whistling and the sounds of approaching steps, his heart leaping up in to his throat as the other man comes back in to the room.

“I started a pot of coffee,” he says to Yuuri, walking up and sweeping him in to yet another kiss. He’s a bit taller than Yuuri, and his hands feel soft an warm on the small of his back. “Do you like coffee?” he whispers against Yuuri's mouth.

“Y-yeah,” Yuuri mutters. He’s so close. Yuuri swallows, his scent thick in his sinuses and throat. He can’t breathe again.

“Where’s the bathroom?” stumbles from his mouth.

The other man smirks, flipping his hair as he turns his body to point to the open door at the other side of the room, opposite the windows.

“Thanks,” Yuuri whispers, stepping around him and attempting to make his way over to it.

He’s stopped when there’s a tug at the sheet. He looks over his shoulder to find Mr Sex still smirking at him, a foot planted on one of the corners dragging along the floor.

“These sheets were very expensive,” he says low and smooth, pulling his foot back. “They are not allowed in there.”

Yuuri holds back a sound as he forces his hand to release its ironclad grip, fighting back the strong urge to cover himself as it falls away.

The other man’s lids fall a little heavier, his gaze dragging down Yuuri’s body. Yuuri swallows again, throat gone dry at having someone look at him like that, so _blatantly_ full of desire.

Yuuri does his best to move naturally, but it’s difficult with those eyes watching his every move. He’s given some relief when he’s able to duck inside the bathroom moments later.

He takes a moment to close his eyes and catch his breath once more. He rakes a hand through his hair and shakes his head, rubs his eyes. He goes to the sink and blasts the cold water and splashes his face until the tip of his nose feels slightly numb. He lifts his head to look at himself in the mirror, half-expecting to see something different there – because, honestly, at this point in his life he wouldn’t be _that_ surprised.

But nope, that’s just his own wet face staring back at him.

What did he _do_ last night?

Well, he knows what _did_... but _how?_ How did he make the leap from leaving his and Phichit’s apartment, to waking up in a (dear god, so sexy) stranger’s bed?

Nights like those usually end up with him waking up in the middle of a playground or a parking lot surrounded by boxes of take out gained through questionable means. He’s woken up with scraped knuckles and bruises that are a complete mystery to him one or two times. He’s never woken up with someone.

Dread fills him for a moment, since he really doesn’t know what he’s like on those nights, and worst case scenarios fill his mind – there are a couple bites that hurt just to look at – but he... seemed like he was into it?

Yuuri huffs and grabs the hand-towel hanging nearby and pats his face dry. _Damn this is soft too..._

As he looks back in to the mirror, Yuuri silently asks himself: And how do _you_ feel about this?

Well, ideally, he would’ve liked to remember his first time. And to know the guy’s name. Things could be worse though. Actually, they've _definitely_ been worse.

Oh shit, he doesn’t even know his name.

Yuuri’s eyes go wide as he looks at his disheveled visage in the mirror, and that’s when they focus on the bright red crescents scattered on the tops of his shoulders. Yuuri blinks at himself, turning and twisting around in the mirror to see his back covered in scratches.

“ _Yuuuuri_ , I think the coffee is done now.”

Yuuri’s hands shake as he quickly hangs the towel back up and walks back out in to the bedroom.

Mr. Sex is waiting for him, posing in a way that makes him look like he was ripped out of centerfold, his eyes falling right to Yuuri’s cock.

Yuuri feels all the blood rush straight to his face.

“Or we could skip the coffee,” says Mr. Sex, in a low, sultry voice very befitting of someone Yuuri is currently referring to as _Mr. Sex_ , dropping on to his back and stretching out like a lazy, and worryingly sexy, cat. “And stay in bed for a while longer.”

That... That is an _offer_.

Yuuri feels compelled to take it, the _maybe-not-so-mindless_ beast lurking inside him dragging him towards his willing prey. It’s weird to feel like this when the sun is out, two halves of himself tugging him in different directions. He’s completely aware of each. His Normal Self, the Yuuri he is most of the time. Perpetually anxious, always quick to be embarrassed about anything. That Yuuri wants to recoil, not out of disgust or anything like that, but sheer terror. Whatever happened last night would not have if Normal Yuuri had been in charge.

There’s a pleasant curl in his belly as that thought passes his mind, like a voice saying “ _yes, exactly, you would have never done this and wouldn’t that be tragic?_ ”

As he climbs back on to the beautiful stranger’s bed and hovers above him on his hands and knees, intense blue eyes meeting his and nearly bleeding with desire, Yuuri thinks to himself “ _yes, that would be tragic_.”

 

 

 

Mr. Sex – or Viktor, as the name embroidered on the robe he lent to Yuuri informed him, which is truly a godsend because there was no way in hell Yuuri was _ever_ gonna manage to drum up enough courage to ask him his name after all they (apparently) did the night before – is surprisingly _cute_.

“I’m an awful cook, sorry,” Viktor says as he presents their less than sophisticated breakfast, cheeks tinted with a very precious shade of pink.

Yuuri finds himself getting more smitten by the second. Viktor (it’s a good name, better than Mr. Sex) lets out a bubbly laugh as they sit at some sleek, designer table to eat Lucky Charms, of all the things. Yuuri’s stomach does about twenty flips in a row at the sound.

“It’s fine,” Yuuri says. The words come out like a dreamy little sigh.

He can’t believe the turn of events, and he is still expecting to wake up at any moment in his bed or in the middle of a park with his head in a pizza box. But... he keeps not waking up.

The silence between them is easy and more comfortable than Yuuri would generally expect for the situation. Or any situation involving himself, really. They crunch on their cereal and take sips of coffee, eyes meeting here and there and exchanging coy smiles that would likely also feel unusual for the situation, if Yuuri had any recollection of what happened – or at least a past experience or two to go off of.

He feels a nudge against his foot, and looks under the table, expecting it to be Viktor's dog- but no, that is Viktor. That is Viktor playing footsie with him.

Yuuri feels his face turn scarlet. He still nudges Viktor back, feeling infinitely pleased with how Viktor giggles and squirms around in his seat.

 

 

 

It takes hours for Yuuri to finally pry himself from Viktor’s very endearing clutches, the only things dragging him away being the looming threat of the full moon and Phichit’s bordering-on-harrassing check in texts.

He lets Viktor put his number in Yuuri’s phone, and promises about eighty times that he’ll text him as soon as he can.

It’s when he’s standing in front of the shiny sky-scraper that Viktor’s apartment is in, in a part of the city Yuuri has never set foot on before now, that reality sets it.

It takes him excruciatingly long to get home, since he doesn’t know the city as well as Phichit does, and he didn’t have the money for a cab. He fidgets in the train, and feels like he has everyone’s eyes on him, even though logically he knows that’s not even remotely true.

He checks the time. 2 pm.

It’s a good thing it’s summer, that gives him a little wiggle room, because right now all he wants to do is talk to someone about this. He has... about a million feelings and twice as many thoughts on them and _and..._

He thinks about Viktor’s face and his hickey covered neck and sighs, head drifting back to rest on the smudged window behind him.

 

 

 

Phichit is buzzing when Yuuri finally manages to stammer out the explanation for why he’s been gone most of the day. He’s not embarrassed, necessarily, this kind of thing is just... not a _Yuuri_ thing to do. Even Phichit has to know that, given that they’ve lived together for as long as Yuuri’s been in the city.

“Are you serious!?”

Yuuri ventures a look at his roommate, and the look on his face says that he’d be off their futon and jumping around if wasn’t currently covered in his beloved hamsters. Yuuri laughs softly, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah.”

Phichit gapes at him. “Holy shit! You’ve got to give me the details!”

Yuuri laughs again, making a face. “Yeah, well...”

Phchit raises a brow. “What?”

“I kind of... don’t remember what happened.”

Phichit’s expression changes entirely. “ _Yuuri_ -”

“No- no- it wasn’t... like that,” Yuuri backtracks, waving his hands and shaking his head. “I get sort of wild when I get drunk,” Yuuri explains, which isn’t a total lie as far as he knows, there's been a few hangovers made worse by photos and videos of what he did the night before. “I’m like, almost one-hundred percent sure I was the one to...” Yuuri trails off with a gesture, unable to find the right word for what he (might’ve? probably?) did. “It's not like that. Honestly. I don't think he even realized I was drunk!”

Phichit relaxes, but still looks wary, which is heartwarming.

Yuuri takes a breath. “He’s...” Yuuri sighs, going all dreamy and warm as he thinks about Viktor again. “He’s so out of my league that he’s on a different planet.”

Phichit looks intrigued again at that, sitting up. “Really? What’s he look like?”

Yuuri flops back against the worn out futon, hand clutching his heart. “Tall, fit, and he’s got like, silvery-blond hair? And the _bluest_ eyes.”

Phichit scrunches his eyebrows. “What’s his name.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri replies, getting lost in his own thoughts while Phichit grabs his phone.

“This Viktor?” Phichit asks a moment later, shoving his phone into Yuuri’s face.

There’s Viktor, much more coiffed and giving a wink and a sly smile to the camera.

“Yes...”

Phichit’s eyes go cartoonishly wide, setting his phone down and gets up smoothly, carefully pulling his hamsters off his arms and shoulders and setting them back in their cage. He turns back to Yuuri as soon as his pets have been secured and flings himself on to Yuuri.

“HOLY SHIT YOU HAD A ONE NIGHT STAND WITH VIKTOR NIKIFOROV!” He bounces, grabbing Yuuri’s shirt and jostling him around.

Yuuri rides out the onslaught, mostly because of the shock and confusion from the level of Phichit’s reaction.

When it seems that Phichit has calmed down a bit, he opens his mouth to ask what exactly why it’s such a big deal but Phichit is one step ahead of him.

“Oh my god, you don’t even _know_ do you?”

“Not really.”

“Viktor’s probably one of the richest guys in the city, and definitely one of the most famous,” Phichit explains, still bouncing. “And you slept with him!”

Yuuri looks off at nothing, eyes wide. “I gave him, like, twenty hickeys...”

“And you don’t even remember it!?”

Yuuri groans, raking his hands down his face.

Phichit jumps off the couch and begins pacing the length of their tiny living room, tapping away on his phone.

A flash of panic grips Yuuri. “You’re not posting anything about it, right?”

“No of course not.”

Yuuri sighs in relief.

“I’m seeing if _he’s_ posted anything about it.”

The panic is back.

Yuuri jumps up to join Phichit, looking over his shoulder as he finds Viktor’s instagram.

“Aww.” Phchit frowns as it appears he’s posted nothing but a few new scenery photos from a dog park, with nothing interest in the captions either. The relief is back.

And almost as soon as Yuuri has caught his breath Viktor’s posted a new photo. A selfie. With all the many, many hickeys Yuuri gave him on proud display.

Phichit’s eyes are huge, his mouth hanging open. “Oh. My. _God_.”

Yuuri has to sit down again.

Never has Yuuri been more happy for it to be a full moon. He needs to be out of his head tonight.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The good thing about city life is that no one really pays any mind to a dishevelled guy slowly eating an entire box of granola bars on the bus at six in the morning. Just another weirdo in a sea of other weirdos.

Yuuri watches the city slowly come to life with his head resting on the window, listlessly dragging his hand up to take another bite of his granola bar when his stomach grumbles. It’s only the residual adrenaline from being in his wolf form that he stays awake at all. And the annoying vibration from the glass against his skull.

Yet, somehow, he still feels refreshed. It makes no sense to Yuuri. The whole werewolf thing does nothing but stress him out the rest of the time, but the morning after always feels like a reset, or something like that. His muscles feel pleasantly strained like when he was still at home and danced at Minako’s studio for hours on end. An awareness of what power his body held after pushing it’s limits.

There’s probably a way to figure out how to hone in on that feeling and make it last more than a few hours... but he’s not sure if he should try to keep it. What might happen if he just embraced it rather than worked around it.

He shoves the last half of granola bar in to his mouth, pushing the rest of the box and the wrappers in to his book bag and closing it before getting to his feet and slinging it on his shoulders as the bus pulls up to a stop. He’ll just walk the rest of the way and hope he makes it back before Phichit gets up.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Viktor knows he’s being the worst listener ever today, but he can’t help it that every move he makes brings about a little twinge of discomfort that drags his mind right back to Saturday night.

“Ugh, why am I even trying to have a normal conversation with you today,” Christophe says with a good-natured chuckle as he sips on his coffee.

“Sorry,” Viktor says even though he’s not even the tiniest bit sorry. Chris can see right through it, rolling his eyes and kicking his foot under the table.

“You’re lucky I like seeing you all glow-y like this,” Chris says, “it’s very fetching on you.”

Viktor hums, smiling and flicking his hair out of his eyes.

“You do look like you got attacked by a possessed Hoover though. I know it’s summer but don’t you have a scarf?”

Viktor laughs at that, stroking the side of his neck, knowing that the skin there is covered with an absurd amount of hickeys. “What can I say, he honed in on my weak spot.”

“So, has he called you yet?”

Viktor pouts slightly at that. “No... but it _is_ Monday morning.”

Chris hums, smirking as he watches Viktor. “You’re already a little in love with him, aren’t you?”

Viktor scoffs. “I’m not _that_ ridiculous.”

Chris’ smirk grows, chin resting in his hand. “You already got the wedding planned in your head don’t you?”

“No!” Viktor says, absolutely affronted at the suggestion.

Chris cocks an eyebrow at him. Viktor crumbles.

“But don’t you think a late spring wedding would just be _perfect?_ Early or mid-May? When everything is all green and pretty but it’s not too hot...”

Christophe groans, sagging back in his seat. “I always worried something like this would happen with you.”

Viktor pushes his half-full coffee forward and flops forward, head on his forearms. “Oh Chris I love him so _much_ -”

“He hasn’t even texted you yet!”

Just then, Viktor’s phone chimes.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Phichit kneads in to the tensed muscle at the base of Yuuri’s neck. “You can do this, I believe in you.”

Yuuri has his eyes closed as he takes steadying breathes.

“But what if-”

“Just send the frickin’ text, Yuuri,” he says, giving Yuuri a shake.

He sucks a breath through his teeth and presses his thumb on the screen.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Viktor is close to swooning.

“What’s it say?”

“ _Hey._ ”

“Really?” he says, cocking an eyebrow at Viktor.

“Yes!” Viktor bounces in his seat, which kind of hurts but he doesn’t care. “What should I say?”

Chris looks at Viktor like a mother would look at her particularly stupid child. “Tell him that every second with out his cock inside you that you’re slowly dying.”

“Okay!”

“No!” Chris’ hands snaps out across the table, snatching the phone from Viktor’s hands.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Yuuri paces the shop while Phichit stands behind the counter. Thankfully business is always incredibly slow at this time and the owner is off doing errands, so Yuuri can have his mini-panic attacks in peace.

Yuuri’s phone beeps and he runs back to the counter to grab his phone.

Phichit bounces behind the counter. “What did he say?”

“Hey, what’s up?” Yuuri says, breathless and beaming because _he really replied_.

“Ooh yay!”

Yuuri moves to make a reply. And then he hesitates, chewing on his lip. He can’t just say _oh, I’m just at the pizza shop I work at, doing literally nothing_. That sounds so... not enticing.

“What should I tell him?”

Phichit hums, leaning on the counter and fluttering his fingertips over his chin. His eyebrows raise with a bright smile as he thinks of something. “Say you’re thinking about him!”

Yuuri narrows his eyes. “You sure that won’t come off a little strong?”

Phichit rolls his eyes and scoffs at him. “C’mon Yuuri, you ravished the guy the other night.”

“Fair point,” Yuuri mumbles.

_Not much_ , he types out, hitting send and then writing _just thinking about you_.

He holds his breath as he hits send again.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Viktor thrusts the phone in to his friend’s face, his face ready to split from how hard he’s smiling. “He’s thinking about me!”

“We should have a parade,” Christophe deadpans.

Viktor yanks his phone back, cradling it to his chest as though it were the most precious thing in the world. “Will you just be happy for me?”

“I _am_ happy for you,” Chris sighs, “I just don’t want you getting all worked up over what might be nothing.”

Viktor’s smile turns right in to a frown, nearly a pout.

“Listen, it’s not that I don’t think you shouldn’t be happy or excited about this guy - but Viktor, come _on_ \- having a great night of sex and a not supremely awkward morning after doesn’t mean it’s true love. And you know that I speak from experience. Have you even really talked to the guy?”

“We talked,” Viktor says, sounding a little too defensive.

“What do you know about the guy?”

Viktor frowns harder as he thinks. “He likes dogs... And regular cheerios.”

Christophe smiles fondly at him, reaching over the tiny table to grasp Viktor’s arm and give it a gentle squeeze. “Ask him out to dinner. Go some place low-key and that maybe doesn’t serve alcohol. Start getting to _know_ him a bit. Just play it cool and wait at least another week before booking a venue.”

Viktor’s smile flickers back to life, his face strangely warm at the thought of going out to dinner with Yuuri. How silly, given what they did the other night.

He sighs, thumbs moving over the screen of his phone.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Yuuri’s on the floor, sure that he’s gone and fucked it all up.

“Ooh! He’s typing!”

Yuuri just makes a noise.

“Get up here!”

“I can’t.”

“He asked you out for dinner tonight!”

Yuuri sits up, adjusting his glasses as they slip down his nose. Phichit has his phone and is jumping up and down with a giant grin.

“Really!?”

Phchit nods and runs over to thrust Yuuri’s phone in to his face.

_shall we continue this conversation face to face?_

_I’d love to take you out to dinner_

_maybe tonight? if you’re free_

Yuuri snatches the phone from his friend’s hand, staring at the messages for just a moment longer before replying.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Yuuri checks his phone makes sure for the third time that the name on the sign and the name Viktor texted him match. Feeling reasonably confident that he’s managed to find the right place, he glances at his reflction in the window of the shop he’s standing in front of. The outfit was Phichit’s doing. He’d gone digging through his closet’s meager offerings, systematically rejecting all of it save for a pair of jeans that gotten a little tight for Yuuri’s liking (he swears his thighs hadn’t been this thick in his pre-bitten days) and then, with plenty of needless melodrama, forced Yuuri in to wearing one his shirts; A navy button up that had just a little sheen to it, and highlighted his shoulders and chest in a way that made them look just a bit broader. His final touches had included slicking Yuuri’s hair back and spritzing him with the musky cologne he favors on his own dates.

As Yuuri left their apartment he’d been convinced that all of it was kinda unnecessary, but looking at himself now, without Phichit’s embarrassing histrionics to distract him... Well, his friend wasn’t a half bad self-proclaimed fairy godfather.

Confidence boosted enough to keep him pushing forward, he adjusts his glasses and marches straight for the entrance to the restaurant.

His eyes manage to hone directly in on the head of silver hair, sitting at a small table and staring dreamily out the window with his chin in his hand. There’s a flutter in Yuuri’s belly at the sight of him, the way the light seems to be pulled to him and making him glow a little brighter than everyone else.

Yuuri makes his way through the maze of tables as gracefully as he can, not wanting to cause any stir so he can watch Viktor like this just a little while longer.

The moment does end though, the trance broken. But it’s nice because then Viktor’s eyes are on him, and he somehow gets even brighter (from looking at _you_ , his mind utters in disbelief) smile growing as he stands to greet Yuuri.

Oh boy, he forgot about those hickeys for a minute, didn’t he?

Yuuri gulps, heat flooding his face and his stomach as his eyes refuse to tear away from the bruises dotting Viktor’s neck and collarbones. Viktor is wearing a shirt with a deep cut v-neck, showcasing all of them proudly to anyone who would happen to look (which Yuuri suspects happens quite a bit) and in a shade of berry-red that matches some of the shades in the marks.

Viktor doesn’t show any hesitation or shyness when leans in and plants a kiss right on Yuuri’s lips. It manages to bolster Yuuri’s confidence a little more, as does the way Viktor keeps looking at him.

“I hope you found the place okay,” Viktor says as they settle in to their seats. The tables are even smaller than Yuuri first realized, his and Viktor’s knees bumping in to one another. It would be easy to just reach over and touch him.

“Yeah, it was fine,” Yuuri says, his voice a little too quiet with how his mind is wrapped up in Viktor’s presence. One of his hands slips along the table, eyes zeroing in on the delicate skin wrapped around Viktor’s bony wrist, overtaken by some strange desperation to touch it. Viktor bites his lip around an even bigger smile, the bow of his upper lip catching Yuuri’s attention.

“It’s nice seeing you again,” Viktor says, visibly holding in his urge to wriggle around in his seat.

Yuuri lets out a soft laugh, still having a hard time not believing that Viktor isn’t some sort of fever dream he’s made up, even as he his fingertips draws tiny, mindless circles on the inside of Viktor’s wrist, and their knees bump together.

“It is,” Yuuri agrees.

They fall in to silence, just staring at each other until a waitress pops up to take their orders.

Yuuri’s eyes bulge as he looks over the menu, eyes going right for the prices.

“Can I order for you?” Viktor asks, jolting Yuuri out of his stupor.

“Oh, I- _uuh_ I-” Yuuri stutters, all seven ounces of cool he managed to have tonight sucked up in to The Void.

“We’ll both have the the pan-seared chicken with veggies,” Viktor says to the waitress, “and a couple glasses of chardonnay, please.”

Yuuri’s breath leaves him in a whoosh, as the waitress collects their menus and dashes off.

Viktor’s looking at him, studying him with his chin resting in his hand, bottom lip pinched between his teeth once more. “Hi,” he whispers.

Something in Yuuri’s stomach flutters and it makes him squirm. “Hi,” he says back, just as softly.

  
* * *

 

They’re lingering over a tiny chunk of lava cake, the fake candle between them flicking in an endless, unnatural rhythm. The small, yellow glow of the plastic flame brings out the warm tones in Yuuri’s skin and eyes.

It makes Viktor want to write cheesy love poems comparing his eyes to the dying embers of a campfire, or some other hot, smokey thing.

Viktor contemplates, very briefly, the thought that maybe he’s read one too many bodice-rippers and has gotten some mixed up notions of romance now.

But then Yuuri takes another sip of his wine, his tongue darting out to swipe his bottom lip, and Viktor thinks fuck it, what’s _so_ wrong with wanting your bodice ripped to shreds?

Not a damn thing, the- _four?_ _five?_ glasses of wine he's had say in agreement.

“Let’s get out of here?” he asks, his voice just low enough to betray his intentions.

“Okay,” Yuuri says, his voice soft and sweet and nothing like the walking force of nature he met the other night.

But Viktor likes this. He had been ever so _slightly_ bewildered Sunday morning and found the Yuuri he’d passed out with had been replaced by someone more... shy. He’d probably been drunk the night before though, Viktor had to remind himself. What was he expecting?

And either way, Viktor had found himself liking hungover, slightly awkward Yuuri as much of a pleasure to be around as “grabs-you-by-the-collar-of-the-shirt-and-makes-out-with-you-on-the-dancefloor” Yuuri. “ _Get a man who can do both_ ” and all that.

And Viktor is liking this Yuuri even more; He’s quiet, sure, but he’s funny- no, _clever_ \- and endlessly enjoyable to listen to when you get him on to a subject he’s got a passion for. (He is - or was, Viktor isn’t totally sure from his wording - a dancer, ballet mainly, which makes _so_ much sense, and gave Viktor the beautiful mental image of Yuuri clad in skintight leggings.)

He waves the waitress over to pay, the process is moving along nice and quick, but Viktor is itching to get Yuuri back in to his bed, to learn what this Yuuri is like in it.

“You don’t have to- I mean, I can-” Yuuri stammers as Viktor takes the check and whips out his debit card without a seconds hesitation. He blatantly ignores Yuuri’s stilted attempt at offering to pay, but appreciates the gesture anyway.

“You didn’t have to pay for me,” Yuuri finally manages to blurt out in the lull after the waitress disappears with Viktor’s card.

“I invited you, I pay,” he says, with that well practiced note of friendly finality he’s used with every less-well-off, not-moochy friend and date in his life. People usually try and pay him back anyway, buying him coffee or putting out all the stops when the give him a blowjob - depending on their intentions with him. (Viktor’s kind of hoping for the blowjob, to be totally honest.)

Yuuri’s mouth snaps closed with a small click, his eyes still wide.

“You are so cute,” he says, the words coming out with a tone that almost sounds exasperated. “You know that, right?” he continues, tongue slippery from the wine.

Yuuri blinks at him, lips forming a tiny _o_.

Viktor clutches his chest and lets out a “ _guh_.”

They can’t get out of here fast enough.

The waitress finally comes back with his debit card, bidding them both a goodnight as Viktor practically drags Yuuri out of the place.

“So,” Yuuri drawls, looking down at their joined hands, “what now?”

He stops squinting down the street in hopes of seeing a free cab coming their way to look back at Yuuri. _Adorable_ , Viktor thinks to himself, _it’s like he has no fucking clue._

Well, he’ll give him a clue.

He swoops in, free hand grasping the collar of that lovely blue shirt of Sin and planting his lips right on Yuuri’s, tongue delving in for a second taste of their dessert.

Yuuri makes a small noise in the back of his throat, but quickly melts in to it, hand pressing in to the small of Viktor’s back.

Viktor makes a small, needy noise of his own, and Yuuri’s fingertips dig in.

He breaks away, lips brushing along Yuuri’s jaw on their journey to his ear. “I want to take you home and have my way with you like you did with me the other night,” he purrs, his hand sliding down from Yuuri’s chest to press his palm against his groin.

Yuuri inhales with a wet gasp, choking on it. The hand on his back lifts away and he spots the blur of it frantically waving at the street, and Viktor lets out a hum, smiling in to the side of Yuuri’s neck. He untangles their hands to wrap his arm around Yuuri’s waist, drawing their bodies in together, not caring if anyone can tell what he’s doing with his other hand.

He pinches Yuuri’s earlobe between his teeth and the sound that comes out of Yuuri is choked, his whole body jerking. Pleased with his fun discovery, Viktor gives the soft skin a tug, cupping around the growing bulge hidden under thick denim.

“Viktor,” Yuuri gasps, his hand squeezing Viktor’s waist.

“Yes dear?” Viktor says demurely.

Yuuri’s other hand grabs him by the back of his neck, pulling him in to a kiss that’s almost vicious. Viktor’s knees shake as his lips buzz, the desire to rip the other man’s clothing off nearly overwhelming. The sounds of cars and other people come back in to focus bit by bit, annoying him irrationally with their presence.

He sucks in air sharply as he tears his mouth from Yuuri’s, dragging him by the waistband of his jeans as he steps out past the parked cars and a little in to the street to hail a cab with much more urgency than moments ago.

After another excruciating minute someone finally stops, and Viktor hauls Yuuri in to the cab with him. In a scene very reminiscent of their first night together, Viktor is nearly laying across the seats with Yuuri on top of him, kissing Viktor in to a puddle.

He breaks off to tell the driver his address. He thinks he hears the driver grumble something about “no body fluids” but he doesn’t care because he has Yuuri’s hands all over him.

  
* * *

 

The journey up to Viktor’s apartment is perilous, given that they refuse to only part when absolutely necessary. But they manage, somehow. Tumbling through the door and kicking off their shoes with relieved sighs, Viktor presses Yuuri against the door, grinding his erection mercilessly in to Yuuri’s hip.

Makkachin trots up, whining as he stands on his hind legs and paws their sides.

Viktor pats at his head distractedly, pulling away to breathe only to have Yuuri steal it when he scrapes is teeth along his neck.

“Makkachin, please, daddy is trying to get laid.”

A laugh bubbles up from Yuuri, and Viktor can feel his smile on his neck, warmth flooding his chest with it.

He takes Yuuri by the shirt once again, breaking out in to a jog to his bedroom. He shuts the door before Makkachin can manage to follow them inside.

He instantly feels wracked with guilt.

He turns and opens the door, taking a couple minutes to shower his dog with affection before nudging him towards the pile of toys in the living room and shutting the door again.

The incessant urgency he just felt has dissipated, somewhat. His heartbeat slowed to a less frantic pace, breathing deeper. He turns back towards his bed, licking his lips, and finds Yuuri perched on the end. His face is still flushed and his hair is a mess, but his smile is soft and sweet. And a stiffness to his body that isn’t from the the stiffness in his jeans.

Viktor prowls towards him, their lips meeting with a more gentle insistence as he forces Yuuri to crawl deeper in to bed. He rests in his elbows and settles his weight on Yuuri, rocking his hips. Yuuri’s hands find their way on to Viktor’s back, moving in slow, long sweeps that stop at the waistband of his slacks. Viktor sits up on to his knees when he’s had enough of that, his hips moving continuously as he peels his shirt off, tossing it aside. He feels a surge of pride at the way Yuuri’s breath catches, smirking as he gives his hair a shake and runs his hands down his chest.

He meets Yuuri’s eyes as he opens the buckle on his belt and unbuttons the fly of his slacks with a few practiced motions. He pushes them down, finding a minor issue when he gets a little past the middle of his thghs and has to find a way to try _sexily_ balance and wriggle them off down the rest of his legs. Yuuri moves to help. Their heads knock together - _hard._

They both collapse with simultaneous, startled yelps, clutching at their own heads.

Viktor looks over to Yuuri through a pained squint, and finds Yuuri peaking at him through his fingers.

“I am so sorry.”

A belly laugh bursts out of Viktor that he can’t contain, his legs stil tangled in his pants as he rolls around. He hears Yuuri join him a moment later, and feels the extra bounce of it through the mattress.

They laugh for... Viktor’s not sure how long. But it feels amazing. And he feels boneless by the time they wind down, the two of them puddles on the bed.

“Is your head okay?” Yuuri asks through a fit of leftover giggles. “I hit you really hard.”

Viktor touches the side of his skull. There’s a spot that’s throbbing and tender, but nothing terrible. “I already lost those braincells, don’t worry.”

Yuuri sputters out another laugh. Viktor is once again overwhelmed by how cute he is.

He rolls so he’s half lying on Yuuri, cupping his cheek as he pecks Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri gives him a shaky smile, his glasses gone all askew.

“May I?” he asks with a small gesture to said glasses.

Yuuri nods. He scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip as Viktor gingerly takes them off his face and folds them, reaching over to set them on the nightstand beside the condoms and lube he’d set out before leaving for their date.

“May _I?_ ” Yuuri asks, his eyebrow arched while his eyes glance down. Viktor looks down at the pants bunched around his knees and lets out a snort. He flops on to his back, arms flung out across the bed. Yuuri gets up on his knees, carefully working his pants the rest of the way down his legs, and then his socks. As he crawls back up he runs his hand along the side of Viktor's leg, expression full of disbelief, for some reason.

“You’re a bit overdressed, don’t you think?”

Yuuri laughs, looking down at himself and then cocking his eyebrow at Viktor again. “Why don’t you do something about it?”

Viktor inhales sharply, heat slithering down his spine.

He rolls up, pushing Yuuri down on to his back and straddling him. He runs his hands up Yuuri’s chest, feeling the warmth of his skin bleed through the fabric. He pops the buttons of the shirt open one by one, spreading it open by sliding his hands over Yuuri’s bared chest. Yuuri sits up - _slowly_ \- helping Viktor get it off the rest of the way.

Viktor smirks as he wriggles down Yuuri’s legs before folding forward, pressing his lips to the skin just below his his belly button while his fingers work on the button and zipper. He looks up at a shaky sigh to see Yuuri watching him through his lashes, already looking thoroughly wrecked and Viktor hasn’t even gotten his jeans _off_ yet.

Viktor won’t deny that it gives him an intense burst of pride.

He drags Yuuri’s jeans down and off his legs, throwing them aside before crawling back up the length of his body, dragging his lips over Yuuri’s warm skin. He pauses momentarily when he reaches his cock, stiff and trapped under his dark, tight boxer-briefs, mouthing at it through the fabric while looking at Yuuri through his lashes. He relishes the full-body shiver that comes over Yuuri.

Viktor rushes up the rest of the way, crushing their mouths together. Yuuri’s hands finally get greedy, grabbing on to Viktor’s ass and pushing down. Viktor rolls his hips, sighing in to Yuuri’s mouth and letting his knees slide over the bedding until he’s laying on top of him. Viktor could do this for _hours_.

But he won’t.

So, with a startling amount of reluctance, he pushes himself back up on to his knees and squirms out of the black thong he wore just for the occasion (he’ll have to make sure Yuuri properly appreciates the look on less desperate date) with less injuries and a sliver more grace than his attempt at taking off his pants. Yuuri just stares, his eyes so wide and jaw slack. It feels glorious.

Yuuri’s eyes follow his hands as he drags them down the front of his body, those warm brown eyes gone black with lust. Viktor’s hands end up on his own cock, stroking himself with loose fists and letting out an indulgent moan.

Yuuri’s whole body twitches, a tight, needy sound ripped from his throat.

Viktor bites his lip and smiles, leaning over to grab the condom and lube. He scoots back enough to tug Yuuri’s briefs out of the way, his cock jerking against his stomach. Viktor hums, giving it a few languid strokes before tearing the condom open and rolling it on. Yuuri’s panting, watching his every move, the tension in his body growing to the point where he’s trembling faintly from head to toe.

Viktor adds more lube, slathering it over Yuuri’s length messily. He gives his own cock another couple strokes, getting it wet with some of the lube left on his hand. He scoots back up, rising higher as he takes Yuuri’s cock in his hand once more, guiding it carefully to his hole. He swivels his hips, trying to find the right angle. His teeth dig harder in to his lip and his eyes flutter closed as he finds it and lets his weight start to fall. It stings as Yuuri’s cock pierces him and Viktor groans, his thighs already shaking as he works to hold himself up.

“Viktor,” Yuuri gasps, his hands taking hold of his hips.

Viktor groans again, letting his thighs relax enough to sink further.

They both groan when Viktor finally settles on to Yuuri’s hips. It aches, and Viktor figures that he really should have waited at least few more days before going for penetration again, but he can’t really say he regrets it with Yuuri looking so destroyed beneath him. He moves his hips experimentally, hissing at the mixture of pleasure and pain it brings.

Yuuri’s fingers tighten, nails biting in to his skin. “ _Viktor_.” Yuuri’s voice has gone deep and gravelly, making his name in to a command.

Viktor starts to move, his rhythm choppy and strained. His thighs are already burning and he has to rest a lot of his weight on his hands resting on Yuuri’s hips.

Yuuri suddenly thrusts up in to him, _hard_ , making Viktor choke round a desperate, wet gasp. His eyes widen and he melts at the look of determination and hunger on Yuuri’s face. He lets himself drop forward, coming to rest on his elbows to get his mouth back on Yuuri’s. Yuuri keeps one hand on Viktor’s hip, the other tangling in to the back of Viktor’s hair, and thrusts up in to Viktor relentlessly while kissing him just as roughly.

After a few minutes, with Yuuri’s frustration obvious in his frenzied movements, Viktor finds himself being flung on to his back. He gasps with the force of it, not getting a moment to stop the world from spinning before Yuuri’s thrusting back in to him and pushing the air right out of his lungs. Viktor clings on on to Yuuri blindly as he begins thrusting, cursing each time their bodies collide. Yuuri is snarling, one hand still locked in Viktor’s hair, holding him in place as he fucks in to Viktor with abandon. Viktor is seeing stars. He feels pressure building deep inside his belly.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” he says in a long, low whine, digging his fingers in.

Yuuri responds by grabbing the back of Viktor’s thigh and folding him in half. It only takes a few more merciless thrusts before Viktor is coming all over himself, crying out Yuuri’s name to the ceiling. Yuuri’s hips stutter, pushing Viktor up the mattress a few inches as he spills in him with a heavy groan.

Viktor’s ears are ringing and his ass is already throbbing, but he feels the lazy smile on his face. Yuuri’s slumped on top of him, head resting on Viktor’s shoulder and chest rising with each heaving breath.

He pulls out very slowly and carefully, but Viktor winces anyway. He stretches out his legs while Yuuri tosses the condom.

Walking is going to be a chore. Sitting will be... he’s not going to think about that right now.

Yuuri crawls back on to the bed, back to looking so endearingly shy that Viktor can hardly believe that it’s the same guy who just thoroughly wrecked his ass _moments ago_.

He looks at Viktor like he’s not sure what to do next.

Viktor moves so he can be properly reclined on his pile of pillows, posing himself so he’s both comfortable and pleasing to a certain set of eyes. The effect is somewhat lost with how much he winces and hisses in the process.

“Sorry,” Yuuri says, face twisted in a apologetic cringe. “I kind of... got a little too into it.”

“Oh god, you are just so fucking _precious_ ,” Viktor blurts out, “please be my boyfriend.”

Yuuri blinks at him, jaw dropping.

Viktor waits. Yuuri keeps blinking.

“Well?”

“ _O-_ Okay.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking 78 years to update this. Much like wolfy!Yuuri made Viktor's Ass his bitch, writer's block made me her bitch. Or, like, something like that.
> 
> (writer's block is a bitch, is what I'm saying here.)

Viktor’s beaming when the car rolls to a stop a couple buildings down from the pizza place. He grabs Chris by the wrist and practically drags him out o the car, bouncing on his toes with the thrill of knowing how he’s about to surprise his darling Yuuri.

“It’s a bit of a dump,” Christophe adds, quite unhelpfully.

Viktor jabs him in the side with his elbow and chides him. “It’s _charming_.”

Chris quirks an eyebrow at him but says nothing more.

Admittedly, the place could be considered a bit of a dump by Viktor’s usual standards. And now he understands with much more clarity why getting Yuuri to tell him where he worked was like pulling teeth. It manages to make Viktor feel abruptly self-conscious. Has he come off as some sort of giant snob to Yuuri? Enough to make him reluctant to share even this basic bit of information with him?

He frowns for a moment at that thought but forces himself to push it into the back of his mind for now, because, either way, he intends to show Yuuri that his job title doesn’t matter to Viktor in the slightest.

He marches on, weaving through the people milling about on the sidewalk and trust Chris to follow. The place the pizzeria sits is just a little grit and grim away from being quaint - the street lined with aged mom and pop shops and older homes. It’s quite nice actually, everything has a nice homey feel to it.

His smile brightens considerably as he peeks through the window at the front and spots Yuuri behind the counter, talking animatedly to another, shorter young man.

“Well, are we going to have lunch or just creepily stare at your loverboy from the outside?”

Viktor shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Be nice to him,” he warns, throwing Chris a look over his shoulder.

Chris puts his hands up. “I promise to be a good boy.”

Viktor huffs, glancing at his transparent reflection in the window and giving his hair a quick fluff before striding to the door. The bell above gives a loud chime and the young man Yuuri’s talking to goes to greet them, his eyes widening at the sight of Viktor. Yuuri freezes with a sheet of dough sagging over his hands, blinking at him.

Viktor throws his hands in the air, beaming back at him. “Yuuri!”

“Viktor?”

“Hello my darling,” Viktor sweeps in, leaning across the counter to press a kiss to Yuuri’s flour-smudged cheek.

The other young man behind the counter collides in to Yuuri’s side as he pulls back.

“I’m Phichit, Yuuri’s best friend-slash-roommate-slash-coworker,” he says, holding his hand out to Viktor. “I follow you on Instagram! And twitter!”

Viktor smiles, elated to know another little slice of Yuuri’s life and recognizes the name from when he’s mentioned it from time to time.

Chris drapes himself on Viktor’s side, chin resting on Viktor’s shoulder and his hand out to Phichit to shake. “Christophe, Viktor’s best friend-slash-coworker. Call me Chris.”

Phichit bounces. “I recognize you!”

Chris gives him a lascivious wink, holding his hand out to Yuuri.

Yuuri gapes helplessly, dough still draped over his hands. He tosses it to the counter when the moment drags and brushes his hands off on his apron before finally taking Chris’ offered hand and giving it a quick shake.

Viktor’s heart flutters. He’s so adorable.

“So, are you here for lunch or _lunch_ ,” Phichit asks, giving Viktor a knowing look, wiggling his eyebrows.

Yuuri turns scarlet and elbows his friend’s side.

“Well, I’m not sure what Viktor is entirely after,” Chris says while Viktor himself gapes, “but I know _I_ am starving.”

Viktor manages to pull himself together (and drag his mind out of the gutter - because his thoughts managed to spiral that fast and start wondering where he and Yuuri could steal a quickie - _bad_ _Viktor!_ ) and put on his best winning smile. “I actually did come here for lunch. Regular lunch. _Food_ lunch.”

Phichit arches an eyebrow and Chris scoffs in his ear.

“Mostly,” he adds, feeling himself blush lightly.

Yuuri is stammering, face beet-red. But the corners of his mouth are turning upward, so he has a feeling that his visit isn’t totally unwanted.

“What’ll you guys have?” Phichit starts, entering Business Mode seamlessly as he steps behind the register. “We sell pizza by the slice or whole pies. We got calzones, garlic bread, cheesy garlic-”

“The margherita is always good,” Yuuri adds quietly, and Phichit nods enthusiastically.

“Well, if that’s what _l_ _overboy_ suggests, then we should definitely get that, right Viktor?” Chris says.

Viktor’s face blooms with heat and he glances over to Yuuri. Yuuri’s still all red, but he’s laughing, and he always loves to see Yuuri laugh, so he forgets to slap Christophe for that.

“One margherita to split?”

“Sure,” Chris answers, since Viktor is far too distracted staring at his gorgeous boyfriend.

“Here or to go?” Phichit asks as he punches things in to the old looking cash register.

“Here for sure.”

Phchit laughs quietly, punching in a few more things. “That’ll be 13 dollars.”

Viktor manages to tear his gaze off Yuuri when Chris jabs his side with an elbow. “I’m ruining my diet for you, so you pay.”

Viktor scoffs and rolls his eye, but otherwise puts up no protest and grabs his wallet, handing the money over to Phchit and tucking away the change he hands him back.

“Have a seat anywhere, your pizza should take about thrity minutes.”

They, of course, take the table closest to the counter where Yuuri’s working on making pizza after pizza.

Chin in hand, Viktor blatantly leers. Yuuri works with that well practiced precision from doing something constantly. Toned arms flexing as he works the dough in to disks and spreads on the sauce and toppings. The little furrow of his brow as he concentrates. The bit of sweat making his hair cling to his forehead. His ass as he turns to slide the pizza in to the huge oven.

“Is Yuuri this bad for you?” Christophe asks Phichit, jerking his thumb at Viktor. “I swear I can’t even talk to Viktor about actual work issues anymore since he’s so far off in la-la-land.”

“Oh, Yuuri’s awful. Always staring at his phone and giggling.”

Yuuri gives his friends a harmless little glare.

“ _Aww_ ,” Chris coos, hands clasped over his heart.

Viktor lets out a small huff and walks up to the counter as Chris and Phichit forge their new found, entirely teasing based friendship, folding his arms against the metal framed plexiglas shield and leaning in to it. Yuuri glances up at him, his cheeks pink and pinching his bottom lip.

Yuuri begins working another lump of dough in to a disk, working it over his fists with quick spins. “Hi,” he says, shy and soft.

“I’m not being a giant bother by coming here, am I?” If Viktor were to be entirely honest with himself, he would never regret coming and visiting Yuuri at work. But if he was making Yuuri uncomfortable, he’d feel at least a little bad about it.

“No,” Yuuri replies with a cute, breathy laugh and quick shake of his head. Viktor sighs with relief on the inside. “Sorry it’s not exactly fancy or anything like that.”

“Don’t be, I think this place is adorable.” Viktor’s barely looked around the place, of course, since he finds himself to be unable to tear his eyes off Yuuri the second he’s within eye-shot of him. In his opinion, Yuuri _does_ make everything a thousand times more adorable, so it’s not like he’s lying or anything like that.

Because Viktor can’t resist, he reaches out and brushes back the damp, dark fringe from Yuuri’s forehead. Yuuri’s smile broadens, eyes full of the most inviting warmth as they meet Viktor’s.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri laughs as he watches Makkachin dart after the ball Yuuri just threw, tongue lolling and curly fur bouncing with each vigorous leap forward. Viktor has his chin resting on his shoulder, arms draped loosely about Yuuri’s waist. They’d decided to take Makkachin to the park before they went out for dinner, in the hopes that tiring him out would let them have guilt-free alone time for (most of) the night.

The one problem being that at some point Viktor got quiet. That _bad_ sort of quiet that made Yuuri nervous.

Makkachin comes trotting back, dropping the ball in to his waiting hand. He chucked it, feeling a pang of sadness as he went after it again.

“Do you think I’m a snob?” Viktor asks with an unusual level of sobriety.

Yuuri turns in Viktor’s arms, wanting to look and see if he was serious. “What?”

“Do I seem snobby to you?”

“What? No!” Yuuri sputters. The look on Viktor’s face borders on grave, which does not look fitting on him at all. “Why would I think you’re a snob?”

Viktor shrugs, lips pulling like he’s trying to figure out what to do with them. He takes the ball from Makkachin this time, looking at the grass between their feet for a long moment. He tosses the ball when Makkachin begins to whine.

“I mean, you wouldn’t tell me what your job is, or why you had to drop out of school, or-” Viktor frowns, brushing the tip of his finger over his lips. “Well, there’s a lot of things, really...”

Yuuri’s throat feels tighter, panic flowing over him in waves that make him begin to sweat.

Viktor looks at him again. “Are you afraid I’ll think you’re beneath me? Or something like that?”

Yuuri shakes his head and waves his hands frantically. “No!”

Viktor is suddenly right in front of him, their faces inches apart, his hands grabbing Yuuri’s and holding them still. “I just want you to know that I could never think of you like that.”

Yuuri’s mouth opens again, knowing he has to say something, though the words don’t seem to be there.

Viktor keeps going before he has a chance to think of omething, either way. “You’ve made me so happy right from the moment I met you, and-” Viktor swallowed audibly, looking down at their hands before forcing out a laugh and tossing his hair. “Okay, this is probably going to sound ridiculous since we’ve haven’t even been dating for a full two months, but... I feel like we could have something really special? And that’s why I want you to be able to be honest with me. I want you to be able to share anything with me.”

Viktor’s eyes met his again with a flutter of his lashes. Yuuri couldn’t breathe. His heart was doing crazy things in his chest. There was a downright violent swirl of emotions in him. He squeezed Viktor’s hands, just to make sure they were really there. They were. And he was going to have to say something. Anything. And, like, soon.

“Viktor,” he starts breathlessly, squeezing his hands again. “I don’t think you’re a snob, at all.”

Viktor's shoulders drooped slightly, the tiniest flickering of a smile crossing his face.

“And I’m sorry that I haven’t been so- upfront with you... it’s just,” Yuuri pauses, trying to figure out the right thing to say, “I have some things I’m trying to deal with right now, and I’ve never done _any_ of this before and it’s all been difficult to try and figure out.” Yuuri huffed, the last words falling out of him in a rush.

Viktor’s smile is fragile, and Yuuri knows that’s not enough.

“I promise I’m not holding back because of you,” Yuuri is quick to add, pulling Viktor’s hands to his chest. “It’s all me, and I promise I’ll share more with you, okay? Because I’m feeling what you’re feeling too.”

At that, the sadness finally leaves Viktor’s face, and Yuuri could collapse with relief. Viktor hugs him tightly, mouth and nose pressed in to Yuuri’s hair, and Yuuri hugs him back just as tight, heart-rate settling to something a little more in the healthy range.

Makkachin barks and scratches at their sides, finally done with being ignored by the both of them.

 

* * *

 

At dinner, Yuuri ends up telling Viktor all about Vicchan, the smile on his face falling and eyes brimming with tears when Viktor asks the wrong question and Yuuri tells him with a tight voice about taking him for a walk a little too late one night and how he darted after a strange noise in the woods and even though Yuuri ran after him, he couldn’t ever find him.

Viktor’s heart clenches and his hand darts out to hold Yuuri’s, the guilt overwhelming. He vows to himself to be much more careful with the questions he asks, no matter how curious he may be.

 

* * *

 

‘ _Has a werewolf been spotted in the city?’_

Yuuri freezes at the sound of the anchorwoman’s voice, eyes shooting up from the crossword on his phone to the TV to see grainy security video of a huge, scruffy brown creature prowling around the back alley door of some place. It rises on to it’s hind legs to look through the window on the door, before baring it’s teeth in a silent growl and loping away.

Yuuri stares at the screen, hardly blinking.

‘ _This has just been one of many sightings reported in the last sixth months. While many believe these sightings are just hungry stray dogs or coyotes looking for a quick meal, others have begun to speculate that these are in fact the creatures of ancient lore-’_

“Yuu-ri.”

He shivers as Viktor’s lips graze his ears, trembling softly as he feels fingers sliding up the back of his head. All other thought slips out of his mind like water, eyes fluttering shut when Viktor’s fingers curl against his scalp as give the roots of his hair a gentle tug.

“You’re not paying attention to me.”

Yuuri chuckles and opens his mouth to tease him about being needier than Makkachin, but his breath cuts short at the feeling of Viktor’s teeth nipping on his earlobe. Viktor really knows how to get at all the right spots.

With Yuuri in the form of jello, Viktor has an easy time getting him to lay back on couch, the bare skin of his back squeaking a little on the expensive leather. He straddles Yuuri’s hips, the front of his silky, slate-gray robe falling even more open, exposing so much bare skin to Yuuri’s suddenly hungry eyes.

Yuuri feels his beastly side rear up, driving his hands forward to grab at Viktor’s hips roughly.

Viktor lets out an indulgent moan, flipping the fringe from his eyes as he swivels his hips. “That’s better.”

He dives forward, lips crashing in to Yuuri’s for a hot, breath-stealing kiss before moving back to tease at one of Yuuri’s stupidly sensitive ears once more. Yuuri’s eyes wonder back to the TV, and finds they’re still on the werewolf segment, showing some clips from on the street interviews - or, in this case, in a cafe.

‘ _So what are your thoughts on all these supposed werewolf sightings?‘_

The kid the reporter is talking to is behind the counter, blond hair pulled back in to a short ponytail with a bit of fringe left out to cover one sharp green eye. He snorts derisively, rolling said sharp green eye at the question. _‘I think they’re pretty stupid for staying in the city when they know they’re dangerous.’_

The reporter looks amused. _‘So you think it’s a werewolf?’_

‘ _I know it is,’_ the kid says with another snort, never pausing in his latte making. _‘I think everyone trying to say otherwise is a fucking idiot.’_

The reporter coughs to cover a laugh. _“Strong words. How are you so sure?’_

At that, the kid finally smiles. A little. It’s maybe a bit too sharp to really be considered a smile. _‘My boyfriend is a werewolf.’_

“Oh, I go to that cafe,” Viktor says with laugh, pulling Yuuri out of his slightly panicked state.

“O-oh.” Yuuri blinks up at Viktor, clearing his throat and hoping that he can’t read the fear that feels written across his face. He leaves the city every full moon, that couldn’t possibly be him-

Viktor leans over to grab the remote from the coffee table, turning off the TV. He smirks at Yuuri as he sets it back down and drapes himself atop Yuuri once more. “No more distractions, my precious pet,” he says tapping the tip of Yuuri’s nose with a wink.

Yuuri shivers, biting his bottom lip as the corners twitch in to a smile. Viktor’s hand moves to cup his cheek, tilting his head as he brings his lips to Yuuri’s. He kisses Yuuri softly, the room filling with their quiet sighs. Yuuri’s hands move under Viktor’s robe, sliding along his sides and up his back, feeling muscle flex under soft skin. Viktor hips begin to move as Yuuri’s hands find their way to the front of his body.

Viktor rolls his body in one sinuous motion, pulling groan from Yuuri while his cock twitches.

Pulling back, Viktor looks very pleased with himself. He crawls down Yuuri’s body, planting kisses down the center of his chest along the way. He stops just above the waistband of the sweatpants Yuuri’s borrowed from him, kissing the (small, but still kind of embarrassing) bit of fat under his bellybutton. He gives it another nuzzle before looking back up at Yuuri, giving him another wink before he starts working the sweats down his hips. Yuuri lifts them to help Viktor along, his cock springing up as Viktor wiggles them down to his thighs. Viktor hums, eyes fluttering as he settles himself more comfortably astride Yuuri’s legs.

Yuuri watches, his mouth agape. He can’t quite get his head around the fact that this is happening to him, still. But that thought goes out the window as Viktor wraps a hand around him, giving his length a few strokes before dipping down. There’s a deep rumble in his head, the wild, hungry side of him taking over as much as it can. He doesn’t register the silky locks between his fingers until he hears Viktor muffled whimpers and sees himself holding on to Viktor’s head, driving himself in to Viktor’s mouth with short thrusts. There’s the momentary urge to stop. _This is too rough! You can’t just DO this to someone!_ But he finds it easy to ignore, his need that much stronger. And Viktor’s expression could be best described as “lost in bliss.” He lets himself get lost in it too, groaning as he keeps fucking in to Viktor’s willing mouth. He doesn’t know how long he lasts, his mind completely gone in a fog of sensation at some point, only to snap from it when the heat in his belly grows too strong, muscles tensed and burning, the feeling like something snapping deep inside. His heartbeat thumps in his ears, skin hot and slick with sweat as waves rush across his body.

Viktor takes over when Yuuri sags with exhaustion, head bobbing as he wrings out the last of Yuuri’s orgasm. He pops off with a happy sigh, looking down at Yuuri with heavy lidded eyes as he demurely wipes off the corners of his mouth.

He comes back down with a vague, lazy gesture from Yuuri. He looks utterly pleased with himself, cheeks flushed to a perfect shade of pink and eyes shining so bright they give off light all on their own. Yuuri kisses him with a hand buried in soft, silver hair, and Viktor opens his mouth easily with a small nudge of Yuuri’s tongue. A sound rumbles up from Yuuri’s chest that he can hardly recognize as his own when he tastes himself on Viktor’s tongue, a primal feeling of possessiveness washing over him. Viktor writhes against him, attention dragging to the still hard cock rubbing against his hip. He reaches down with a hand not currently buried in Viktor’s hair, grasping the length tightly and stroking hard and fast. He swallows Viktor's whine with a growl, stroking until he feels Viktor tensing and cum spilling against his stomach.

Viktor whimpers as Yuuri lets go of his cock, slumping into the space between Yuuri’s body and the back of the couch. He pants softly, head pillowed on Yuuri’s shoulder. He traces figure eights over Yuuri’s chest.

As the haze of sex finally begins to clear from Yuuri's mind he feels a twinge of embarrassment, like he always seems to when he can’t manage to reign his more werewolf-y side in.

“Oh Yuuri,” Viktor drawls, voice scratchy and smile lazy. He walks his fingers up the center of Yuuri’s chest and throat, lifting his head as his fingers trace Yuuri’s lips. “How do you manage to be so sweet and yet so deliciously wicked.”

Yuuri forces out a laugh when he can’t think of a response right away, shrugging his shoulders. “Just how I am, I guess?”

Viktor hums, expression soft with affection. He stretches up to press a kiss to the corner of Yuuri’s mouth.

“How lucky for me to find you, then.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Yuuri fidgets as he looks at three reflections of himself. He fusses with the suit Viktor pushed on to him with one of those smiles that always seems to render Yuuri brainless. It feels strange and uncomfortable and a little tight here and there. _Where the hell is that tailor?_ Glancing back at the door off to the side of the small room, he lets out his annoyance with a small huff. It feels like he walked off ages ago.

Yuuri closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. He needs to try and relax.

But it’s hard to relax when Yuuri knows he has thousands of dollars worth of clothing on his body, and that the full moon is rapidly approaching once again, and that he was going to have to try to do the impossible and remain somewhat in control of himself on the night before it because he agreed to go his boyfriend’s dad’s-slash-boss’s company’s anniversary banquet because Yuuri cannot find it in himself to say _no_ to Viktor when he has that look on his face- _Seriously!_ It would be like kicking a puppy! _How_ was he supposed to say no?

Yuuri jolts when he feels hands slide up under his coat and grasp at his waist, and opens his eyes to see said boyfriend’s face in the mirrors with two extra copies, his eyes bright and dreamy in the soft, warm lighting of the room.

“I knew you’d look ravishing in this,” he purrs in to Yuuri’s ear as he presses himself against Yuuri’s back.

Yuuri feels -and sees- his cheeks going red. “Are you really sure this isn’t... too much?”

Viktor’s eyebrows have furrow a bit as he studies Yuuri’s reflection with a little more scrutiny, tugging at the hem of the silvery-gray waist coat. “Of course not, darling, everyone is going to be all dressed up.”

“I mean-” Yuuri flounders as he goes tongue-tied, waving his hands at his sides as he tries to figure out a way to explain that Viktor should probably not spend this much money on him. “Isn’t this _too much?_ ”

One of Viktor’s eyebrows arches up at him in the mirror. His mouth twitches in to a small, soft smile after a moment, eyelids drawing down. “Not at all, darling,” he says, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s temple, “I want to take you to the banquet, and I want you looking your absolute best so everyone gets properly jealous of me, this is an incredibly light fee to pay.”

That pulls a quiet laugh from Yuuri, glancing down at the shiny pair of shoes Viktor and the polished, fast-talking saleswoman put him in. “I don’t think they’ll be jealous of you since they’ll be too busy wondering how I managed to convince you to ... do anything with me.”

Viktor leans his head on to Yuuri’s, a quiet laugh bubbling up from his chest as he hugs Yuuri, “nonsense, they’ll be wondering how someone so handsome and charming can stand a bimbo like me.”

Yuuri doesn’t get a chance to even begin to form a response to _that_ bewildering gem of a statement before the door opens and the tailor walks back in. Viktor brushes a quick kiss against his hair before he steps off the small raised platform they’d been standing on, wearing a serene smile as he walks over to the other side of the room to gracefully plop down on to the padded bench beside the clothes Yuuri came in with.

Yuuri feels the heat of Viktor’s gaze on him as the room goes quiet while the tailor goes about his task of measuring and marking off things to be taken up and in, giving quiet orders for Yuuri to move here and there.

 

* * *

 

Phichit is bouncing off the walls the second his suit arrives. The disdain coming from the guy who delivered it was palpable, but any bad feelings that may have wanted to linger get washed away in the tide of Phichit’s relentless enthusiasm.

“I gotta see it!!”

Yuuri can’t help but laugh. “You’re acting like this is my wedding dress...”

Phichit's eyebrows arch.

“That... that sounded weird, but that’s not the point,” Yuuri says, “I just don’t see what’s so exciting?”

“Can’t a guy live vicariously through his friend?” Phichit says, “I mean, you get to go to this cool rich people party, in a fancy expensive suit your sugardaddy boyfriend bought for you and probably get to feast on caviar and champagne!”

“Okay, first of all,” Yuuri says, holding up a finger, “you promised you’d stop referring to Viktor as my sugardaddy, and second, Viktor says this is more of business oriented, networking sort of thing and less like a party, so I don’t think whatever fantasy you have going on in your head is gonna be what’s happening.”

Phichit pouts at him aggressively. “Can’t you let a guy have his Cinderfella fantasy?”

Yuuri only gives him a flat look in response, looking away to hang his bagged up suit on a bent nail sticking out from the stained beige walls. Honestly, he can’t resist having another look either. He unzips the front of the garment bag, pushing it open to reveal the jacket and waist coat.

“Oh my god... _It’s so shiny!_ ”

Yuuri lets out a huff of laughter. “Viktor picked it out.”

Phichit throws himself to the wall with a cry, making it shake, sliding down to the floor with a hand on his chest. “Your sugardaddy has _such_ good taste.”

“Phichit!”

 

* * *

 

It’s one of those rare moments where Viktor is really, genuinely _nervous_. He’s never had someone to bring to one of these sorts of things. Never had someone to bring to meet his father.

Not that he even particularly wants to subject someone he likes to his presence, truthfully.

That’s the problem, really. He gave up on trying to get his father’s approval a long time ago. Well, he guesses he has his approval on some level- he’s never come close to firing Viktor, at least. Though he’s sure that a lot of that is because Viktor has managed to make himself sort of the face of the company and he manages to make himself useful on top of that, so firing Viktor would make him look sort of awful.

But other than that? Nothing.

For some reason though, he’s hoping that somehow he’ll by some miracle end up liking Yuuri. He doesn’t know why he’s hoping for the impossible - his father has pretty much hated anything relating to him since he was a teenager, Yuuri will most likely be no exception no matter how wonderful Viktor thinks he is.

His mind turns briefly to a more pleasant thought, smiling as he wonders about what it would be like bringing Yuuri to meet his mother instead. He has a feeling that she would have liked him, if she could have gotten the chance to meet him.

Either way, he’s glad that they’ll be picking up Chris and his boyfriend, the distraction get him off the worries swirling around in his mind.

And they leave as they pull up to the front of Yuuri’s apartment building, a smile blooming on his face. He hops out of the car and to the front door, a lightness in his step. He jogs up the three flights of stairs and makes his way through the narrow, dingy hall to Yuuri’s apartment.

He knocks and Phichit answers before Viktor’s hand falls back to his side.

Phichit beams at him, a hamster on each shoulder and a third sitting the pocket of a slightly too large track jacket. “Yuuri, Viktor’s here!” He steps aside, gesturing for Viktor to come in.

It still takes quite a bit of energy to not blanch at his boyfriends living conditions. He’s still proud of himself for not just demanding Yuuri move in with him the first time he saw their place - hell, he was willing to let Phichit come along too. Sure, Viktor is aware that his bar for this sort of thing is set quite a bit higher than most people’s... but this place does not look up to code. It makes him whimper (internally) when he really thinks about how Yuuri pays for the privilege of living here...

Viktor shakes those thoughts away. That’s something to work on later- for now, he has the pleasure of seeing Yuuri step out from behind his bedroom door, decked out in the suit that looks as perfect on him as Viktor imagined it would. Hair combed back and no glasses to obstruct the warmth in those gorgeous brown eyes as he looks to Viktor with that precious, nervous smile of his has Viktor’s mind flying off in to another direction entirely \- his heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird against his ribs.

“I’m having trouble with the tie,” Yuuri says, voice trembling and low with nerves.

Shaking away his speeding thoughts once more, Viktor is quick to step forward. It feels like Yuuri can sense the directions of his thoughts as he looks at him, and he feels the heat rising in his cheeks as he takes the tie from Yuuri’s trembling fingers. He _swears_ he feels something more in Yuuri’s gaze, like there’s a real, tangible weight to it. Viktor keeps his eyes aimed down at his own hands, tightening the knot gently until it rests lightly at the base of Yuuri’s throat. His eyes dart up as he  smooths the tie down on to his shirt, breath catching when they meet Yuuri’s and sees all the heat there.

They both jump when they hear the sound of a camera shutter.

Phichit is vibrating, his smile threatening to split his face as he holds his phone up to take another picture. “You guys look _so_ cute!”

Viktor laughs while Yuuri says, “we’re not going to prom.”

“Ah, my darling, few pictures couldn’t hurt though, right? We do make a very dashing pair.”

The hint of a glower on Yuuri’s face drops off as he looks at Viktor. “I guess.”

Viktor steps in closer to Yuuri, taking the liberty of buttoning up the waistcoat before turning towards where Phichit still stands, giving him a wink while his arm winds around Yuuri’s waist.

They let Phichit have his fill, even doing a couple poses at his insistence, before Viktor gets a message from Chris saying that they’re ready. He takes Yuuri’s hand as they make their way to the front of the building, the excitement starting to build now that he has Yuuri all prettied up at his side.

They slide in to the back of the car and Viktor gives the driver Chris’ address, settling in to his seat with sigh. He glaces over to Yuuri, whose eyes are trained on something outside the car, up towards the tops of the buildings.

Viktor leans in, and Yuuri looks over, eyeing the smirk on his face with interest.

“I’ve got something special on under here,” Viktor says, voice low and breathy, “for after we get through this banquet.”

Yuuri’s chest rises sharply with a deep breath, eyes skirting down Viktor’s body. He rests a hand on his thigh, heavy and possessive, fingers kneading lightly in to the muscle. Viktor leans back, feeling entirely too pleased with himself, and rests his hand on top of Yuuri’s as an easy silence falls between them.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri imagines that even if this had been a good, normal night, he’d still be entirely lost.

He has no idea what anyone is taking about. Thankfully, Viktor seems to have expected that, and is doing the vast majority of the talking for them. It’s twice as helpful because Yuuri is using every ounce of his willpower to not just zone out and tear through the giant buffet at the other end of the room. But- he also can’t imagine peeling himself away from Viktor’s side. _That_ would mean leaving Viktor alone with _other people_ while looking like some form of divine creature, and that brings about an entirely new and intense form of discomfort Yuuri’s managed to never feel before.

He just clings to Viktor’s side instead, doing his best to remember how to be a person while it feels like everything has decided to assault all of his senses at the same time.

At least he doesn’t have to deal with being nervous about normal things. Like, meeting his boyfriend’s dad. Which Yuuri is getting the distinct feeling that Viktor is trying to avoid.

Yuuri almost wants to track the guy down and get it over with, so he doesn’t have to feel the waves of anxiety rolling off Viktor.

Yuuri smiles and nods as some guy - Fred or Bob or some other boring name - walks off with his probably equally boring named wife in tow. It seems as though they might have a half a moment alone, and he needs to seize the chance.

“Fresh air?” he chokes out, the words still caught halfway in his throat.

Viktor’s eyes fall to him, blinking twice before the words seem to settle in. He smiles, and it’s his real one, not the one that keeps popping up when someone wants to come and suck up to him.

“This way,” Viktor says quietly, taking Yuuri’s hand as his eyes dart over the room. “Quickly.”

They power through the room to get to one of the sets of glass doors running along one of the walls, stepping out on to a wide, blissfully empty balcony. Yuuri takes a deep breath as cool air licks his face and the light of the nearly full moon settles under his skin. Yuuri opens his eyes when he realizes Viktor isn’t next to him anymore.

Viktor is hunching over the banister, elbows resting on top it and face in his hands.

“Viktor?”

There’s a sigh and a shake of silver hair and then Viktor stands back up, placid smile back on his face.

Yuuri frowns, everything else temporarily pushed to the back of his mind as he steps closer. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all, sweetheart. I should be the one asking those sorts of questions, since I know most of the people here. How are you? Not dying of boredom, I hope.”

Yuuri’s eyes narrow. _He’s_ been far more subtle  deflecting questions, which is amazing, because Yuuri’s never thought he’s been even remotely subtle.

He takes hold of Viktor’s chin, forcing him to look Yuuri in the eye. His meager facade crumbles.

“I didn’t think it’d be this nerve wracking to have you meet my father,” Viktor says in a rush, “or just be in the vicinity of him, I guess.”

Yuuri feels something soften in his chest, his hand moving to cup Viktor’s cheek.

Viktor’s mouth twitches in to a small frown. “I just... I wish that he’d like you, or that I could at least know that he’d be nice to you.”

Yuuri feels the wolf in him rearing up, tuning in to the muffled sounds of the banquet going one behind him and feeling the urge to wreak havoc, anger bubbling deep inside at the sight of frown on Viktor’s face.

_Okay, deep breath-_ Yuuri has to force himself to take back control, but it doesn’t stop the anger.

His straightens his spine as the wolf retreats back a bit, a wordless compromise being made between the two of them.

“Lets get it over with then,” he says, voice brooking no arguments and taking Viktor’s hand to drag him back to the party.

Viktor blinks at him again, shock clear in his face, but he follows. He’s silent as Yuuri drags him in to the middle of the room.

Yuuri realizes then that he has no idea what Viktor’s father looks like or where he might be at the moment. He looks back to Viktor for guidance.

Viktor, looking even more nervous now, nods his head towards the largest table at the head of the room. There are people surrounding it, making it hard to tell where he actually is, but it’s enough. Yuuri marches forth with a steady, unwavering determination.

He doesn’t care that he has no goddamn clue what he’ll say or do when he gets face to face with the guy, just as long as he does something to get Viktor happy again. An older man, balding and gruff looking steps from the small crowd as they approach. Yuuri eyes him with trepidation (probably more than a little disdain) while Viktor grabs on to his shoulder.

“Yakov! Having a good night?”

Yuuri has to look back to see Viktor’s face. He sounds genuinely more pleased than he has for a while now.

Yakov scans Yuuri over ones before returning Viktor’s greeting. “It’s been as lovely as expected.”

He sounds... slightly sarcastic. Maybe?

“This is Yuuri,” Viktor says, rubbing Yuuri’s arm.

Yuuri flinches when Yakov thrusts a hand out at him. Yuuri shakes it with caution.

“So, you’re the one he’s going on about all the time?”

“Yeah?”

Yakov nods once, and even though his expression never falters he senses some sort of shift. “Solid handshake, use it when you meet him.”

“Speaking of him, how’s my father’s night been?” Viktor asks, trying to sound casual and failing.

“Good as any, I suppose,” Yakov answers.

Yuuri’s getting antsy, fast.

“I need another drink,” Yakov grumbles, stepping around them with out another word.

“Who was that?” Yuuri asks as Yakov hustles away towards the bar.

“My father’s friend, I guess, and the COO of the company.”

“... Is he always like that?”

“Yeah, but he seemed to really like you!”

Yuuri’s nose scrunches. “Really?”

“Yeah! He complimented you, he doesn’t do that often.”

Yuuri shrugs and decides to take Viktor’s word for it since he must know the guy well enough. He takes Viktor’s hand again and leads him towards the table, eyes darting to hone in on the right guy. His eyes settle on one who shares a resemblance to Viktor. He also happens to be looking right back at the two of them, so Yuuri guesses it’s the right guy.

“Hello father,” Viktor says with that forced cheeriness Yuuri’s been hearing all night. “Having a good evening?”

“Splendid,” he says before taking a sip of the drink in his hand, eyeing Yuuri over the rim of his glass. Yuuri meets his eyes relentlessly.

Viktor pushes Yuuri a little further with a hand resting on the small of his back. “This is Yuuri... my boyfriend, I was telling you about him the other day, remember?”

Viktor’s never sounded so unsure... He’s told Yuuri about his father and their whole lack of relationship, so he always figured it would be an awkward meeting, but the real thing manages to seem so much worse.

Viktor’s father just hums, eyeing Yuuri some more, sizing him up, and Yuuri’s bristles. He straightens his spine and thrusts his hand out, a smile that feels dark and not quite his own curling on his lips. “Pleasure to meet you, Viktor’s told me so much about you.”

Viktor’s father stands up to his full height- which matches Viktor’s by Yuuri's estimation - adjusting his expensive suit jacket and looking down at Yuuri with a set of blue eyes that are severely lacking the brightness of his son’s. “I hope they were good things,” he says dryly, taking Yuuri’s hand.

“It would depend on your definition of good, I guess,” Yuuri fires back, squeezing just a bit too tight as he shakes his. Viktor chokes quietly beside him, his fingers digging in to Yuuri’s back. Yuuri distantly feels as shocked as his boyfriend.

The words settle slowly on Viktor’s father. His eyes widen when they do, mouth falling open. “What?”

“The party is lovely,” Yuuri says, brushing past the shock and letting go of his hand to wrap his arm around Viktor’s waist.

Viktor’s father shakes himself, putting on a placid face that looks far too familiar. “Thank you... so, I must admit that Viktor has been a bit stingy about you. He hasn’t even told me what your career is!”

Yuuri’s smile broadens to match the older man’s. “Ah well, that’s probably because I make pizza for a living!”

“Ah,” is that Viktor’s father replies with, eyes narrowing as they move to Viktor.

“Yeah, not exactly _high brow_ or anything like that, but it pays the bills,” Yuuri says, “lucky for me that Viktor doesn’t care about stuff like that.”

“Yes,” Viktor’s father says, voice low a his gaze keeps darting back at Viktor, the disapproval dripping off him. Viktor's keeps looking at Yuuri, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

“It’s amazing how big of heart he has despite- well, _you_ know...”

His eyes snap back on to Yuuri. “ _I_ know?”

“You know how rich kids can be, so entitled and downright cruel, but Viktor is just so kindhearted.”

Viktor’s grip on his back is tight and trembling.

“I figure he must have gotten that from his mother,” Yuuri says with a tilt of his head.

Viktor’s father’s expression turns acidic, jaw clenched and eyes dark.

“There are probably other people you want to talk to now,” Viktor says with a forced out laugh as he drags Yuuri away. “We’ll just be going now.”

Yuuri keeps his eyes locked on to his father's until Viktor forces him to turn away.

He drags Yuuri to the nearest bathroom, letting out a shaky breath as soon as the door shuts. He leans against the tiled wall and looks at the floor as he runs his hands through his hair.

Yuuri stands back a couple feet and watches. His belly twists with guilt, but it’s not enough to make him regret the things he said.

“I can’t believe you said those things,” Viktor whispers, voice reverberating off the walls.

Yuuri ignores the urge to apologize for once.

He doesn’t even get much of a chance to since Viktor is surging forward, pressing Yuuri against the wall with a ferocious kiss. Yuuri makes a sound of confusion even as he returns it with just as much feeling.

Viktor pulls back, eyes sparkling and smile bright. “ _Where_ did that even come from?”

Yuuri stammers before giving up and shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, you said he wouldn’t like me anyway so I just... went with it?”

Viktor’s laugh is musical and pretty and making Yuuri’s heart flutter. “Oh, _Yuuri_ ,” he says with a dreamy sigh, lashes fluttering as he cups Yuuri's face in his hands, leaning in for another breath stealing kiss.

Yuuri rumbles from deep in his chest, heart thrumming with a mix of feelings and thoughts he can’t hope to pick apart right now. All he can make sense of is the feeling of Viktor’s mouth and the heat of his body pressed against him, the way his scent mixes with his cologne and whatever air-freshener they got pumping in to this high scale bathroom. He feels his restraint beginning to crumble, his hands gripping Viktor’s waist tighter.

The thought doesn’t even pass through his mind before he’s turned them around and has Viktor crushed to the wall. He feels Viktor’s sound of surprise vibrate against his lips, and the minute shudder that echoes through him. _Need_ crashes in to his like a wave, choking him with it and making his blood go hot. Yuuri feels like he’s  separated from himself, his body being guided by instinct and the beast.

A hand fists itself in to Viktor’s hair, fingers curling tight at the roots, while the other grabs on to Viktor’s hip. Hips rolling, he pulls Viktor’s head to the side, exposing the length of his neck to be ravaged by Yuuri’s mouth.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whines, voice trembling. Arousal courses through him, overwhelming with the sensations Yuuri’s putting him through. Yuuri growls in response, punctuation it with the sharp pinch of teeth at the side of his throat.

Yuuri always manages to get him hard at an alarmingly fast rate, and this time is no different. The thought of where they are fleeing his mind as Yuuri’s cock - as full and hard as Viktor’s - girinds incessantly in to his hip. It takes everything to keep himself from melting in to the floor. The stress and awful thoughts that had been bugging him the whole day are all swept away in the face of Yuuri’s sudden brazenness, and he wants to be swept up with it.

He takes every ounce of strength left within him and pushes forward. Yuuri’s surprisingly strong and pushes right back until it seems he realizes what Viktor is trying do and goes with him. Viktor feels their way to the closest stall, the both of them stumbling inside without them ever parting. Yuuri shoves him in to the back of the door, knocking the wind from Viktor’s lungs. Yuuri’s mouth is back on his before he can catch his breath. Yuuri kisses with wild abandon, and Viktor can feel the need burning through it, he shivers with it. His hands shake as they make their way down Yuuri’s body, cupping his cock through the smooth fabric of his trousers. Yuuri groans, thrusting against Viktor’s palm. Yuuri follows his lead, grabbing Viktor in a hot, tight grip that has him choking pitifully against Yuuri’s lips.

Without another thought or care, Viktor begins to take on the herculean task of unbuckling Yuuri’s belt. His fingers are clumsy and weak, so it takes a few tries, but soon enough he has Yuuri’s cock in his hand. Yuuri has a much easier time with Viktor's clothing, though he’s much rougher about it. The both of them have streams of noise leaving their lips; sighs and growls and not-so-softly muttered curses. Yuuri hips snap hard and fast in to Viktor’s hand, bringing about thoughts of other things they could be doing if Viktor had even entertained the possibility of this happening and planned ahead further.

Viktor whines as he comes, wanting _so much more_ still. Yuuri spills just after him, growling against Viktor’s throat. The tension in Yuuri’s body never relents, Viktor can even feel it still brimming under the layers of clothes.

Viktor pulls his phone out from the pocket of his jacket with his clean hand and with his trembling voice calls for the car.

 

* * *

 

“You have a lot to tell me,” Christopher says as soon as Viktor makes his way in to the cafe.

Viktor smiles broadly, the two of them walking up side-by-side to the counter. “Do I?”

“Yes, you do! I’ve been hearing all these mutterings about your beau going off on your father, and then the two of you just up and disappear halfway through the night.”

Viktor lets out an airy laugh and runs a hand through his hair. The feelings from the night before were still floating through Viktor, his head light and heart full of warmth.

“By the looks of your neck I can figure the reason you left early wasn’t to chew him out.”

Viktor bites back another laugh and shakes his head. “Oh no, not at all.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Viktor ordered first, giving their usual orders to the blond kid behind the register and paying for both before Chris has a chance to pull out his wallet. Chris sighs, rolling his eyes with a fond look, keeping quiet as they shuffled to the side to wait for their drinks.

“Do you want a cookie? I’m kind of feeling up for a cookie...”

“Viktor,” Chris deadpanned, “you know I’m dying over here.”

“Well, I’m not sure what everyone else has been saying, but Yuuri did technically _go off_ on my father, I guess.”

Both his friend’s eyebrows draw up.

“It was all very restrained and polite, nothing terribly salacious, if that’s what you’re thinking, it was more of him making implications at my father...”

“And you’re fine with that? I mean, I know your father is an asshole, but he’s also your _boss_ -”

“I know, I guess I just.. don’t care?” Viktor taps his fingers along the counter.

Chris’ eyebrows stay arched high on his face, his gaze probing at Viktor and making him squirm.

“I don’t know- I don’t really _need_ to have a job with my father at this point- hell, I _could_ just live off my savings and the  inheritance for the rest of my life, if I really wanted- so, I guess if he were to fire me-”

They jump when their drinks are set down roughly beside them, the glare on the teenager needlessly venomous, in Viktor’s opinion.

They grab their coffees and make their way to a table.

“Toblerone,” Chris reads aloud from the side of his cup with a small frown. “I’m not sure if that’s actually an insult. What’s yours?”

“He just put Old Man again.”

“Mm, sounds like someone's losing his touch,” Chris says loud enough that the kid has to have heard. When Viktor glances over his shoulder, sure enough, he’s met with another glare and a middle finger aimed their way.

“Anyway,” Viktor starts, “that’s pretty much all it was, really.”

“Mmm.” Chris nods thoughtfully. “You seem very happy about it.”

Viktor’s smile widens, his cheeks warming. “I am, I didn’t expect that from Yuuri.”

“Can’t say I did either, something about him did seem a bit different though.”

Viktor nods and hums, the memories still vivid and thoroughly distracting.”

“I think I love him,” Viktor blurts out before sipping his coffee.

“ _Wow_ Viktor, I didn’t notice,” Chris says with a short huff of laughter.

“No, I mean I think I’m really in love with him,” Viktor explains, “I know I’ve thrown around the word a lot before but... I think I am really in love this time? I’m not just mentally planning the wedding but I’m thinking about actually being married to him.”

“That’s pretty serious.”

“I know,” Viktor says with a laugh.

“Have you told him?”

“No, but I’m thinking about it.”

Something in Chris’ expression gives him pause. “What is it?”

“Nothing darling, it’s very sweet.”

“No, it’s something,” Viktor says, eyes narrowing at his friend.

Chris’ expression falls in to something much more serious, which is more than a little worrisome. “I don’t want to kill your mood.”

Viktor bristles, he hates it when Chris holds back on him. “Just say it,” he insists.

Chris sighs, leaning back in his seat and studying his cup for a few moments before looking Viktor in the eye.

“It’s just that there’s something ... questionable about Yuuri.”

Viktor’s jaw twitches as he fights the urge to start talking.

Chris takes a deep breath, fingers tapping along the sides of his cup. “He seems perfectly nice,” he says, like he’s trying to placate Viktor, “but the whole thing about not talking to his family?”

“I wouldn’t talk to my father if I didn’t still have job with him,” Viktor says.

“I know, and you’ve told me the reasons why you wouldn’t,” Chris says, “but has Yuuri given you the reason?”

Viktor says “no” softly, shifting in his seat.

“His whole past is pretty murky is all I'm saying.” Chris looks at him, tapping his finger and contemplating. “And there’s just something strange about him.”

“What do you mean by that?” Viktor snaps back, unable to cover his irritation.

Chris’ body sags, the looking resigned at the fact that he’s thoroughly ruined Viktor’s mood. “I’m not sure what exactly it is, but there’s just something about him that screams _'I have some weird skeletons hidden in my closet.'_ ”

Viktor looks down at his fidgeting hands, jaw clenched tight.

Chris reaches over and grasps Viktor’s wrist, squeezing lightly. “Look, I’m not telling you to dump the guy or anything, I just think you need to be careful- I don’t want you to get hurt by _another_ guy who turned out to be an asshole.”

Viktor frowns, not shaking his friend off him, but not acknowledging him either.

Christophe sighs again, letting go of Viktor’s wrist and standing. “I should go.”

Viktor stays still as his friend walks past, his hands brushing Viktor’s shoulder as he passes.

Viktor stews on Chris’ words silently. A sense of unease settling over him. He's pulled from his trance with a tap on his shoulder. Beside him is the crabby teen who’s usually manning the register. He’s wielding a broom him, now.

“Move your feet.”

Viktor moves without thinking about the fact that he’s letting himself be bossed around by a snarky barista. The kid sweeps with a vigor that seems unnecessary for the relative cleanliness of the floor.

“Are you gonna just fucking mope there all day or what.”

“Maybe,” Viktor answers, “you can’t really kick me out if I keep buying things, right?”

The barista shrugs and grumbles something Viktor can’t make out.

“What does it matter to you anyway,” Viktor grumbles, not caring about how rude he sounds. It’s not like it would likely matter either way to this kid.

“It’s annoying.”

Viktor shrugs his shoulders and takes a sip of his coffee.

“Your friend doesn’t like your boyfriend or something?”

Viktor narrows his eyes. “Were you listening to our conversation?”

“This job is fucking boring,” the barista says as though it justifies his eavesdropping.

Well, it’s not like Viktor has many other people to talk to about this, why not some kid looking for random bits of juicy gossip? “It seems he doesn’t.”

“Is he weird or something?”

“Chris?” Viktor asks, not pointing out that he’s been sweeping the same spot for almost two minutes.

“No your boyfriend.”

“No!” he answers automatically, but then some things come to the front of Viktor’s mind, and make him hesitate. “Well, he’s not _weird_ , I guess. He has quirks.”

The barista gives up the pretense of sweeping and leans against the table, waiting for Viktor to explain further.

“He can be so timid and nervous, but then when we-” He catches himself before he can say more, clearing his throat while his face heats. “He just turns in to... a beast,” Viktor finishes in a whisper, and he can’t keep the affection out of his voice, his heart thumping a little harder as he thinks about the way Yuuri looks at Viktor when it happens. The overwhelming heat and passion.

“G _ross_ ,” he sneers, “but, that’s it? Is your friend jealous?”

“Well, there’s a couple other things...”

The barista raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“He doesn’t use any social media at all-”

“Okay, that _is_ fucking weird as hell.”

“- _But_ it’s because he says he doesn’t want anyone from his hometown to find him,” he explains.

“Why? Are they all assholes or something?”

“Well, no... he doesn’t really talk about it, but he always says he didn’t leave because of them.”

“So he ran from his hometown and is hiding from everyone for no reason?”

Something heavy settles in the pit of Viktor’s stomach.

“But he’s so _sweet_ ,” Viktor insists, hating the way his voice wavers.

“And, like, a serial killer or has a secret family or something.”

“No he doesn't,” Viktor says more for his own benefit while he desperately searches his mind for some innocent, reasonable explanation for why Yuuri would hide from his family. “Yuuri's wouldn't- he's not that kind of person.”

The barista's nose scrunches up in distaste. “His name is Yuuri? _Blech._ ”

Viktor looks at him in confusion, eyes falling to the tag on his polo- _Yuri, oh_.

There's the sound of a wolf howling and then Yuri is pulling his phone from the pocket of his apron, smiling for the first time Viktor's ever seen as his thumbs become a blur tapping on the screen.

His smile falls as soon as he seems to realize he's shown Viktor some weak spot in his armor. “Unlike some of us, I don't have a serial killer boyfriend,” Yuri says, “he's a werewolf, which is way cooler.”

Viktor blinks, watching Yuri's face, waiting for him to start laughing.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Do I look like I'm fucking joking,” Yuri snaps back.

“Your boyfriend is a werewolf,” Viktor says, feeling the need to make sure he's not starting to hear things, “and you believe that?”

“Yeah, I've even seen it.”

Viktor makes a note to himself to never talk to teenagers about his relationship problems ever again, no matter how desperate he is.

Yuri lets out a snort of laughter. “Hey, maybe _your_ boyfriend is a werewolf, it'd be better than him being married, at least.”

Viktor sighs and stands from his seat. “You know, I think I need to go now.”

Yuri scoffs, getting back to his sweeping with his phone still in one hand. “Whatever.”

Viktor walks out in to the hustle and bustle out in the world, a bunch of uncomfortable, conflicting thoughts whirling in his head.

He needs to have a hard talk with Yuuri. And soon.

 


End file.
